


don't punish me (for what I feel)

by ryoji



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, New Years, Oblivious Shiro (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Pre-Kerberos Mission, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 13:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryoji/pseuds/ryoji
Summary: Shiro invites Keith to a house party for New Years, you know, just because he's curious about him. (Or: the time Shiro accidentally asks Keith out on a date)





	don't punish me (for what I feel)

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for [mintytm](http://mintytm.tumblr.com) on tumblr for Sheith Secret Santa, I hope you like this! I rarely write fluff, but Sheith makes it kind of easy, plus I wanted to do a different sort of dynamic for Pre-Kerberos. Also thanks to the lovely [Kyuu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/vantas) for always being my beta.

Shiro doesn’t know much about Keith aside from whispers in the hallways about flight records, but he doesn’t seem surprised when Shiro approaches him in the cafeteria one day.

It’s winter break, and not a lot of kids stay at the Galaxy Garrison. Not when it’s too cold to sneak outside and break curfew. Not when more and more kids have families along with their dreams. Shiro has spent every holiday since he enrolled in the Garrison three years ago by himself. His commanders always check up on him, encouraging him to try out the tutoring and recruitment programs. Everyone has known what he’s capable of since his very first semester, but Shiro wouldn’t care even if they left him alone. His holidays were previously only spent with his grandfather, and his passing right after he got accepted into the Garrison was hard, but peaceful. Somehow, it felt right that it’s the last thing Shiro was able to do for him. Besides, if he spends the Holidays alone, it’s easier to pretend that he’s reading and looking at the stars with him still.

The week before the majority of his classmates left for break, Shiro hears that Keith also spends his Holidays alone. Shiro’s peers make jokes about Keith’s issues with authority, the fake stories about how Keith was the one who caused Iverson’s eye injury, but nobody ever mentions his parents. When the subject of the upcoming Holidays is brought up, everyone mostly just says: “Sucks you and Keith both gotta stay here.”

It makes Shiro expect a lot of things out of Keith.

He expects somebody who is immediately hostile to him. Someone who immediately challenges him. Or, maybe just someone who takes on more than they could handle. It's not too remote a possibility; Shiro did the same thing to his superiors three years ago.

What he doesn’t expect is Keith not even raising an eyebrow when Shiro sits next to him. The cadet just takes a sip out of his orange juice.

“You’re Shiro,” his tone is flat, but Shiro can hear a little bit of wonder in his voice. It’s the one thing that makes Keith like the rest of his peers; he’s just as fascinated by Shiro as everyone else is. Shiro tries to stare into his eyes, but he finds himself drifting away. Despite Keith treating him normally, he simply exudes a certain intensity. It makes Shiro’s face grow warm, and he cracks his knuckles underneath the table.

So Shiro opts to hide this with a smile. He starts to open his mouth to talk, but Keith effectively cuts him off, sipping on the straw of his juice box harder, making it crackle when he finishes it. A second later, he blurts out: “I want you to tutor me.”

Shiro blinks, scrunching his nose and looking at the single notebook and pen by Keith's side. His studying supplies were less than most people at the Garrison already. He wasn’t disciplined like Shiro, just a natural. “You need one?”

“No,” Keith doesn’t wait to see Shiro’s reaction to that, “I wanted to see if you’d say yes.” He sits up a little straighter, and Shiro realizes that Keith was trying to discern if Shiro deserves his respect. Shiro bites his lower lip to hide his smile, he’s heard that Keith had a discipline problem, but maybe nobody else took him seriously. “What did you need?”

Keith doesn’t say what did you want, he asks _what did you need_ , as if he knew how much time and effort (a whole lunch period) Shiro spent trying to find him in a near empty cafeteria at the Garrison. If Shiro spent that much trying to find Keith just to talk to him, he _must_ need something.

Shiro almost wishes he did.

The truth is that Shiro finally grew curious enough to seek him out, though he’s been hearing whispers about him since early October. And as many rumors float around about Keith, nobody seems to remember that Shiro used to be the same. They talk about the flight records and the gifts they each have, the _potential_ , but they never talk about them as people. He was always startled to realize how effective being the Garrison Poster Boy had been for his freshman past.

So, he shrugs his shoulders, trying to make this less of a deal than it is. His stomach growls at the sight of cafeteria, and he ends up saying the first thing he can think of. “You should come to Matt Holt’s New Years party.”

“You’re asking me out?” Keith asks instantaneously, raising an eyebrow. Shiro expects his shoulders to fall, but they stay straightened. Keith's eyes are narrowed and unblinking, staring at him expectantly.

No wonder this kid eats all the other pilots alive.

Shiro laughs easily though, sitting down across from Keith on the lone lunch table, “I didn’t ask you anything. I suggested it.” Keith’s eyebrow remains raised, and Shiro meets his gaze then. He swears Keith glances at the floor for a second before meeting his eyes in that same locked down expectancy. “I want to meet you outside of here, as a friend, hopefully.”

He hopes that the statement is enough for Keith to realize he doesn't want to pry. That he doesn't care about records, and he doesn’t necessarily care about Keith, either, but he wants to.

Keith avoids his gaze and looks down at his tray. “Well,” he gives Shiro a small smile before answering, body shifting to get up. “If you really need me to be there.”

Shiro doesn’t say anything when Keith stands up, picks up his tray and walks away, but he does linger just to watch him leave.

\---

Shiro is standing by a bookshelf in the corner, the very same bookshelf that has the perfect view of the door, while sipping his second wine cooler. Matt Holt’s idea of a house party is like this: a group of juniors turn on someone’s phone and dance in the kitchen, a group of tired seniors crowd around the Holts’ huge flat screen and watch disney movies while playing drinking games, another handful of randoms are playing Apples to Apples or making out in closets, and many, _many_ people passed Shiro and tried speaking to him and touching his arms as much as possible.

When he was a freshman, Shiro was very flattered by this, until about halfway through the year, his roommate at the time scoffed at him. “Seriously? You’re flattered people have _eyes_ , Shirogane?”

“ _T_ _akashi,_ ” another girl taps his shoulder and clinks her bottle against his. He glances down at her and smiles in polite acknowledgement, but doesn’t clink his bottle back at her or say hi. The girl shrugs and leans back with him anyway. Currently, rumor has it that Takashi Shirogane, being a soon to be graduating senior and turning down every proposition, shoulder touch, giggle, and nervous glance these past four years, is probably gay. Shiro hasn’t confirmed or denied it, but he likes the way people run with it and respect it. The girl nods her head towards the door, her voice light and near laughter, “You’ve been staring at this door for half an hour.”

Matt snorts once, chugging down half of the Smirnoff in his hand but still making it seem like _just_ an effortless sip, “Don’t mind him. He asked out Keith Kogane and now he’s waiting for him.”

Shiro’s head snaps up, “I want to be his _friend_.” It hardly sounds like a protest.

Matt rolls his eyes and Shiro tries not to smile. He considered Matt Holt something barely above a classmate, and mostly because Matt is one of the few people to call him out when need be. Shiro is usually seen as perfect, infallible, or just plain charismatic and lucky, but Matt tutored him for Calculus, so he’s definitely seen Shiro at his absolute worst.

 _“Yeah_ , and you could have been _normal_ , Shiro,” Matt waves his bottle around and narrows his brows in thought, “You could have, I don’t know…met him at the gym, helped him with his homework, you know, anything else. Anything else but invite him to a house party.”

“I thought it’d be a good way to…socialize,” Shiro makes an effort to turn on the charismatic charm that makes him so known in the Garrison in the first place, but Matt just rolls his eyes at him. “Okay, yeah it’s loud, but people are having fun here, plus I’ve never thought of him in any way other than a…colleague.”

“A colleague?” Matt snorts again, the girl next to him is giggling. “Shiro, you only have to find him attractive _enough_ , to ask him out on a date, it’s not a commitment.”

Shiro huffs, “It should be.”

But before Shiro can explain the logic behind his thoughts, the girl gets on her tiptoes and points in the direction of the couch, “He’s asleep.”

“ _What_?” Shiro and Matt both say, immediately standing up and away from the bookshelf.

“I think he’s been asleep,” the girl shrugs her shoulders and takes a sip of her wine cooler, sloshing the drink around her cheeks and swallowing. “He’s not drunk. I offered him a drink and he just asked if I knew you, _pft_ , like who doesn’t know you Takashi?”

“It’s Shiro,” he replies quickly, before finishing the rest of his wine cooler. He knows it sounds harsher than his usual tone, because both the girl and Matt raise their eyebrows at him.

Matt lets out a flat, “Well okay then.”

Shiro tenses and crosses his arms, “I mean, it’s fine, I’m just worried he really _is_ drunk.”

“Oh, I mean, don’t worry,” Matt shrugs his shoulders and leans back on the bookshelf with the girl, “The kid only has a discipline record supposedly with a folder devoted all to himself, I’m sure he can handle his alcohol.”

Shiro’s voice falls flat as he strides towards the couch, “Point noted. Holt.” He rolls his shoulders back in an attempt to relax himself. Shiro almost hates that the intent to befriend Keith Kogane gave him so much purpose, but Shiro _likes_ the kid. He clearly doesn't care about Shiro’s reputation; he didn’t have preconceived notions about him, he didn’t seem even a _little_ curious about him. Shiro likes that. He likes that Keith doesn’t see him as a legend, as infallible, or just a guy with a lot of luck.

Shiro is a lot of things; a perfect poster boy for the Garrison because his default answer for everything is, “I did everything through hard work.” A Garrison darling that could get away with everything, that _did_ get away with everything over the years, and he is going to use that power to at least befriend Keith. He doesn't necessarily want to turn him around, not when Shiro thinks he just needs an image change, not an attitude adjustment.

His thoughts are confirmed when he sees Keith laying on the couch, a brown leather jacket hanging off his shoulders, a cat on his stomach, arms touching the floor, drool on Matt Holt’s pillow. The group playing Apples to Apples don’t even stop their yelling and playing to look at Shiro, so he squats down and rests his head in his hands. “Huh.” Apparently, Keith could sleep through anything. When the cat jumps off Shiro to nuzzle Shiro’s leg, he sighs and nudges Keith, hoping that he really is just asleep and not black out drunk. “Keith.”

Keith opens his eyes immediately, sitting up and almost knocking Shiro off his squat, as if he never slept to begin with. The only evidence that he was asleep lays in how bloodshot his eyes are and the dried trail of drool on his chin. “Shiro.” Keith straightens his back. Shiro nods and holds back a chuckle, he doesn’t smell alcohol on him.

“So,” Shiro starts, wondering if Keith is going to try and get out of this.

Keith looks around, wipes the corner of his mouth with his hand, “So,” Keith doesn’t finish that sentence, just tugs Shiro towards the bookshelf that Shiro was leaning on earlier. Shiro grabs a wine cooler from the ice chest on the way, since he couldn’t stop looking at Keith and hearing Matt’s voice say, _he just needs to be attractive enough_. Keith is definitely, attractive enough, but Shiro couldn’t get into any sort of relationship with a freshman. Not when he had no idea what post-graduation life had in store for him. Not when he wanted to go into space. Not when Keith is just a huge, walking risk.

Shiro clears his throat, “So…you can fall asleep anywhere?”

“Something like that,” Keith leans down to pet the cat that had followed them, still avoiding Shiro’s gaze. “I rarely sleep, when I can, I just…do.” Keith opens his mouth to say something else, but Shiro sees the hesitation when he bites the inside of his cheeks and pets the cat again. “It’s not important, parties just make me bored.”

“How long did you try looking for me?” Keith simply shakes his head, and Shiro gestures to the disney drinking game happening in the living room not far from them, “Come on, you didn’t even _try_ to participate.” Keith raises an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms and leaning back, and Shiro can’t help but stare. He has the look down to a pat, it’s almost like he practices keeping people away from him. Shiro sighs, “If this wasn’t your thing, you could have told me.”

Keith doesn’t say anything for awhile, doesn’t move from his position with his arms crossed. Just looks at Shiro from top to bottom several times, and Shiro pretends he doesn’t notice or care how many times Keith looks at him. “I think I was curious.” Keith holds his gaze this time, staring right through Shiro, and Shiro thinks about how intense he looks again. His eyes such a dark blue Shiro swears they’re almost purple; they shine brightly every time they meet Shiro’s own eyes. Keith shouldn’t be able to intimidate him the way he does, but Keith already has a way with making his heart jump to his throat. Keith gives the tiniest shrug before he says it, “You know, like how you were curious.”

“Keith,” Shiro tries to say it like he’s chastising him, but his voice fades away by the _th_ , and it sounds too tender for that. He can immediately tell how he says it by Keith’s smile, something Keith probably doesn’t do with any of the authority figures who go after him. Shiro glances at the door, then him, drinking the last of the wine cooler, and sighs. “Come on, we can take my bike to the dorms. We can just talk.”

Shiro doesn’t wait for Keith’s response, just starts walking towards the door. He doesn’t want to leave without giving him a way out, but he doesn’t want to outright _ask_ or _say_ it either because a lot of him wants Keith to stay. A lot of him wants his curiosity to be satisfied.

Luckily for Shiro, Keith is a pretty fast. He’s already shoulder to shoulder with him in mere seconds.

\---

They don’t talk on the way to the dorms, not that Shiro could begin to think about talking in the first place, especially since he liked to fully concentrate on the ride itself the rare times he took his hoverbike out.

Keith doesn't make a comment about his bike, not like the rest of Shiro’s peers at the Garrison did, he doesn't even look at it nearly as much as he eyed Shiro at the house party. Maybe it’s because the hover bike is one of the few things that Keith knows about him. There isn’t a reason to question it, it’s just another fact about Shiro. Keith doesn’t seem impressed or suprised, just gives it this sort of tired look that other people probably perceive as permanently annoyed. Shiro smiles, and thinks that a friendship with Keith could be beneficial to himself, too.

It would be nice to just be himself around someone.

“Hold on,” Shiro says to him as he puts on his helmet. Keith nods and wraps his hands around Shiro’s face, leaning into his shoulder and sighing. “Don’t fall asleep on me, Keith.”

Keith mumbles, “Can’t make any promises.”

Shiro feels warmth rise to his cheeks at Keith’s easy reply, as if Shiro has already earned his trust and comfort, but Shiro closes his eyes and lets the cold wind brush his cheeks and shivers. He could blame the flush on the cold, just like he could blame Keith’s actions by how tired he is. “Well, trust me. You’re not going to be able to sleep on this thing, especially with how cold it is. You should really have more than one layer.”

“Mmn. The jacket’s big on me,” Keith murmurs into his shoulder, his hands interlocking right in the middle of his waist. He nuzzles his shoulder again, and Shiro definitely feels some of the warmth from his cheeks spread to the rest of his body. _It’s the wine coolers_ , he tries not to say out loud. Keith’s voice is soft and low against his back, “Somehow, I think you’re going to drive slow enough so I can get a good night’s sleep.”

Shiro doesn’t say anything, just takes off immediately to try and prove Keith wrong. Nobody could just fall asleep like this, with the wind in their hair, with the light feeling all around and over him. It’s the closest thing to piloting they have outside of the Garrison.

Keith does fall asleep, though, drool and all.

“It’s like you belong here,” Shiro says more to the wind and himself then to Keith, and doesn’t bother to fight the smile he gets when he feels the weight on his shoulder get heavier and heavier. He’s grateful that Keith didn’t ask questions about his bike. He’s grateful that when the ride ends 10 minutes later than it’s supposed to (because, predictably, Shiro drove slowly, took a bunch of detours, because Keith deserves to sleep at least half an hour), Keith still sleeps. Shiro picks him up and wonders if he imagines Keith nuzzling his chest. He tries not to focus on how comfortable Keith looks in his warms, how Keith fits _just right_ in his arms.

Most of all, he’s grateful that Keith can’t make a comment that as a Garrison Darling, Shiro can pretty much walk through the door to his dorm after curfew, especially during a Holiday break. At least, he has to _attempt_ to be quiet and inconspicuous.

When he lays Keith down on the bed, Shiro touches Keith’s cheek once and smiles softly, Keith has a nice face.  One that you wouldn’t expect from someone who has their own filing cabinet at the Garrison, one that you wouldn’t expect to eat pilots alive and intimidate Shiro. Maybe though, the truth is Keith barely has a file at all, nobody knew Keith, nobody asks him why he does the things he does, or if he even _did_ all those things. When Shiro lifts his hands away from Keith, one of his eyes immediately opens and he groans, “This is your _bed_.”

“This is my bed,” Shiro repeats back at him, this time he doesn’t hold back the laughter that’s been bubbling inside him since he saw a cat laying on Keith’s belly. “I carried you here.”

Keith glares, full of fire and definitely serious, “I could carry you.”

“I don’t doubt that, actually" Shiro says, clearly doubting it while attempting to tuck him back into bed. “You can nap here until the morning, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“You _have_ to know how many times I’ve broken curfew." Keith stands up, hands clenched to his sides and defiant. This is probably more akin to Keith’s usual personality, and Shiro wonders why people minded that. He kicks the blankets off of him and immediately crosses his arms. Shiro only cares that the tips of his ears are red. _He’s probably cold_ , Shiro reasons before tearing his eyes away from him. “This isn’t how I expected to meet you.”

Shiro shrugs, “That’s okay. We have a whole new year to make it up.”

Keith sits back on the bed at that, eyeing Shiro’s collection of mugs that have gathered on his tiny night stand, “You asked me out.” Shiro stares at him, and Keith stares back, unflinching, wide eyed. If Keith was someone else, maybe he would have smiled, but instead he just picks up one of Shiro’s mugs ( _Congrats on Waking Up_ in big gold letters) and asks, “Do you microwave your water for your tea?”

Shiro considers taking the out and answering that question. He even _could_ say that he most certainly didn’t ask Keith out. He only wanted a friend, and he definitely didn’t have any feelings for a boy he spoke to for 10 minutes a week and a half ago. Instead, Shiro sits down next to him and grabs the mug out of his hands and sighs out, “I did." Keith perks up and then Shiro averts his gaze towards the wall, “I mean, unintentionally. I see how it comes across that way." Keith doesn’t deflate, just keeps staring him down, before nodding once as Shiro finishes, “I’m not opposed to it though.”

Keith is quiet for a few minutes, considering it, and Shiro wonders if Keith always thought that this was a date. He couldn’t have though, not with the glint in his eyes, and a hand nervously running through his hair. Maybe, more accurately, this is what Keith always wanted.

“I’ve never done anything like this before, I don’t celebrate the New Year, don’t look back on it, don’t look forward to anything." Keith shrugs his shoulders, like he said something casual, and not something sad. “Usually, I’ve just always focused on what needs to be done.”

Shiro raises a brow at that, “Am I something to be done?”

Keith opens and closes his mouth, looks at Shiro once and sighs loudly, “ _Shiro_." Shiro is about to apologize when Keith lets out a small smirk and pats his head once, clearly patronizing. “You’re finally getting it,” Shiro realizes how well a smirk fits on Keith’s face. It’s then Shiro first realizes, _oh, I could like him. I probably already do._ “We can be friends, but I’ll probably always want more than that.”

Shiro scoffs at that and wonders if Keith is just that honest or _trying_ to fluster him, “You can’t just say things like that." He walks away, fills both of the mugs with water, and sticks them in the microwave. Shiro’s determined to _think_ himself out of dating Keith, “I barely know you.”

Keith scrunches his nose up, “You will. We have the rest of the school year." He sits down on the bed and wraps himself back in the blanket, "Come to bed. It’s almost midnight.”

Shiro doesn’t immediately turn back to look at him, just grabs two tea bags and two mugs while shooting questions one after the other, “Do you like green tea with lemon? Sugar? I can get you black tea. Earl Grey? English Breakfast? Maybe with milk?”

Keith glances at Shiro only once, “Earl Grey. I don’t need any cream or sugar. Will you come to bed then?” He pats the spot next to once, putting a star throw blanket that could only cover _maybe_ Shiro’s lower body to the side.

Shiro breathes, he doesn’t say anything for a handful of minutes, just watches the tea steep and thinks about how this is already similar to his holidays. He hasn’t had someone to share tea with or watch the stars with in years because he hasn’t bothered to celebrate this holiday with anyone in years.

He knows Keith hasn’t either, so even if this is nothing more than both of them being too similar and too alone, there isn’t in a crime in enjoying that. Shiro squeezes a lemon into his tea and sighs, stands up straight and faces Keith, “It’s a date.” Shiro walks a couple of steps and extends him his tea mug (one of Shiro’s favorites, one that showed all the constellations as you poured hot tea into it).

Keith nods once, as if he didn’t just win some major victory getting to Shiro to admit this is a date. He gives Shiro the rest of the blanket so he could crawl underneath with him. “Here, just toss me a sweater on your floor so I can keep warm.”

Shiro, out of spite, picks up a christmas sweater a secret admirer gave him a month ago, that was slightly too small for him that says _Feliz Navidog_ , the dog had a reindeer nose. _Keith looks adorable in it_ , he thinks bitterly as Keith puts it over his plain black t shirt (who _doesn’t_ wear a sweater this time of year?). He tries not to think how the sweater that’s slightly small on Shiro hung off Keith’s wrists just a _little_ . Keith is smiling though, tucking his hands inside the sleeves of the sweater, as if he _knew_.

Shiro slides in next to him and Keith immediately tucks him in with the bigger blanket, wrapping it around him as much as possible before laying on his shoulder. “You’re a suitable bed now," Keith mumbles. And with Keith’s face up close like this, he can see Keith’s face flushed all the way down to his neck.

So Shiro goes for it, and kisses his forehead. He lingers for a little before pulling away and smiling wide, gripping onto one of his shoulders, “Happy New Year, Keith.”

Keith doesn’t smile back at him, his eyes remain wide and clearly stunned, until finally he responds softly, “Happy new year. " He takes a single deep breath and Shiro can tell he’s nervous, “Here’s hoping it all works out.”

“Hey,” Shiro’s voice is low, his hands wrap around Keith’s underneath the sheets. “It will. We have the rest of the year to figure it out, after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://seto.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/heired)


End file.
